


A Place for Us to Dream

by StrangerZ



Series: Pelican Town Conspiracy [1]
Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: A Mystery??, Angst, Anxiety, Awkward Conversations, Depression, Eventual Romance, Family Feels, Foster Care System, Good Big Brother, Hopeful Pessimist, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Pelican Town Conspiracy, Shane is Rude, Shane is a Softie, The Farmer is a Lightweight
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:35:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25188802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrangerZ/pseuds/StrangerZ
Summary: If he's going to get custody of his younger siblings, Reese has to get the farm operational and make some serious improvements to the cabin. If he can't bring them home, what's the point of any of it? One night he spills his guts over a few beers, and the next day the entire town knows.
Relationships: Shane/Male Player (Stardew Valley)
Series: Pelican Town Conspiracy [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1824709
Comments: 1
Kudos: 27





	A Place for Us to Dream

Reese stared into his beer, and wondered what the hell he thought he was doing. There was no way he was going to be able to compete with the massive monoculture farms subsidized by Joja. It was an insurmountable task, and he wasn't a farmer. He didn't even have a garden, just a few potted prayer plants. They were the only thing he'd had any success with in the stuffy little apartment he'd left behind for a crumbling shack. He'd brought them with him, and they were the only things that made it feel like home. 

_Yoba's prayer._ He wasn't sure if he believed in Yoba or not, but the prayer plants were a comfort nonetheless in a time when they were the only color to his dull, hopeless life. Now they were the one remaining constant in his life. Having that centered him a little. He needed that now.

Today, he'd barely managed to clear enough space on his farm for the seeds he'd been gifted.

The tools he had to work with felt like a joke, but that was his life. One big fucking joke. 

He held his glass tightly to hide the way his hands shook. It wasn't just stress. It was exhaustion. He wasn't sure he'd be able to make it back to the farm tonight. He'd barely made it into town, if the way his legs threatened to give way was any indication. 

He remembered the tangled, rock strewn fields, and had to work hard to get his breathing under control. He'd barely started yet. He couldn't give up without trying, no matter how impossible the task seemed. 

Joja was a bust, but if he could pull this off that didn't matter. 

Tomorrow he would start clearing the area around the little pool of water, and that was it. That was all he was going to let himself think about. The rest didn't exist. It couldn't exist or he wouldn't be able to do anything, and that was unacceptable. He couldn't give up. If it was just him, and he gave up and just lived in that little shack for the rest of his life barely scraping by? He could live with that. 

It wasn't just him though, and he couldn't let his younger siblings down. He'd failed spectacularly in Joja Corp, but this- if he succeeded in this, he'd have a whole farm for them to live on, totally wholesome. No one could argue with that, not if he cleaned up the place. He could get an extension on the cabin or something, he definitely needed more bedrooms and a fucking kitchen at the very least.

There was no way he'd get custody with anything less than that.

Leaving them in the foster system to age out like he had just wasn't an option, and while he'd fucked up his first attempt to become financially secure enough to be considered a reliable guardian, he'd make it work this time. He'd do it if he had to work himself to exhaustion like this every fucking day.

He just had to take it one day at a time. He'd done everything he could today. He'd wasted money on beer, but - maybe it wasn't a waste if it calmed him down enough to give it another day. One day at a time. He could do that much. 

He took another sip of his beer, and sighed when he realized he'd finished it. It was only his second, but he was going to have to call it a night. Money was going to be tight for a while, and he had to keep enough in case of unexpected costs - or an emergency.

"Want another refill?" the blue-haired bartender asked brightly. She'd tried chatting with him when he'd first sat down at the bar, but left him to his own thoughts when it was clear he wasn't interested in conversation. It still had been nice to see a friendly face after the day he'd had. He wasn't exactly the most social human, but even he needed people once in a while. He felt adrift out here.

"Nah, not tonight," Reese replied, and forced out a laugh that sounded better than he felt. "I'm already pushing the limit of my budget, y'know?"

"In that case- you can have another, on me. Just this once, since we didn't throw you a housewarming party. We really should have-" she kept on talking, but for a moment it turned to white noise. A housewarming party? That would've been nice, and even the thought was too much. He started tearing up, and it was stupid but he couldn't stop it. He pressed his palms into his eyes and took a deep breath. Breaking down in tears at the saloon on his first day was not on the menu. Not happening.

"Did you break the new farmer, Em? What did you say?" A new voice spoke up, and Reese slowly let his hands fall from his face to see who it belonged to. Around the corner of the bar, by the fireplace, a young man with light scruff and dark circles under his eyes. Reese hadn't realized anyone was there, and briefly wondered how long he'd been there, how much he'd seen.

"I don't know! He was alright a moment ago-"

Maybe he was better at hiding his feelings than he'd thought.

"I'm just tired," Reese tried to reassure her, and the new stranger raised an eyebrow. He looked as tired as Reese felt. The worn Joja hoodie more than explained that. No words needed there. Joja Corp was hellish to work for, he doubted Joja Mart was any better. If anything, it was probably worse. Retail people were even more disposable than office workers.

"Right. Are you gonna take her up on that free beer, cause if not...?" the stranger trailed off, expectantly. If Reese wasn't overwhelmed and bone-tired he would've laughed at what was probably intended as banter. As it was, he just shrugged.

"Shane, you're not getting his free beer. If he doesn't want it tonight-" _"-it's his, he can do what he wants with it-"_

 _Shane_... 

"I'll have it tonight," Reese interrupted softly. The playful banter stopped abruptly, and Shane turned back to him as if surprised he said anything. Or as if he'd half forgotten that he was there. He seemed to zero in on Emily again. Maybe that's what this was about. Shane was just flirting with Emily, and Reese just happened to be a useful excuse. That had to be it. 

"Oh. Right. I'll- right back-" she took his glass and turned away.

Shane scratched the back of his neck, looking a bit more uncomfortable when it was just the two of them. It'd probably be nice to attempt to make conversation to ease the silence, but Reese wasn't feeling it. He just shrugged at Shane again and leaned back his barstool. 

A brief glance up confirmed that Shane was no longer looking his way.

He thought he'd be relieved but he was just disappointed. Oh boy. He wasn't doing this. He didn't need to get distracted by soft, bruised looking eyes or-

His eyes dropped to Shane's lips for a moment before he forced his gaze back to his hands on the counter. Nope. Not today, not tomorrow, not next week. He needed to get his shit together, and a boyfriend wasn't on the table. Oh, a boyfriend on the table-

Fuck. 

He buried his face in his hands again.

"Got your refill- oh. Alright there?" Emily asked, concern lacing her voice though she didn't press too deeply. 

Reese shook his head, before he realized his mistake. He'd admitted he wasn't alright. Fuck.

Reese took a long draught of beer, and tried to get his shit together. Failed. Fuck it.

"There's no way I can do this. It's gonna take too long. They've already been waiting too long," he told her, his voice muffled by his hands. 

"Who's waiting?" she asked, uncertain about this new information. "It's your first day, give it another week before you decide you're a failure, alright?"

"It's been years. Two years," Reese mumbled, to his audience's confusion. He thought it was just her and Shane, if he was still listening, but it was the entire saloon. Everyone had listened to every thing he said since he'd arrived. 

"I'm pretty sure you've only been here a day, farmer," Shane replied wryly, without the gentle touch Emily was going for. Even so, he'd spoken to the farmer more than anyone expected as it was. It helped he was clearly miserable. Giving him an attitude might actually be an improvement from letting him sink into his self-loathing.

"Not what I'm talking about, stranger," Reese shot back, letting his hands fall back to the bar to give him a frown.

"Then say what you mean and stop talking in circles, farm boy," Shane replied bitingly, ignoring warning looks from just about everyone else in the saloon. He was actually enjoying this, after spending all day, every day having to bite his tongue. Better yet, he liked seeing a fire light new farmer's eyes again, when moments ago he looked ready to give up. 

"My younger sibs are still in foster care, and there's no way I'm getting custody of them. The cabin's a dilapidated hazard, and nothing about that fucking wreck of a farm is safe for kids."

Reese had stood up from his bar stool, leaning forward against the bar. He glared at Shane as if he had anything to do with his situation, and Shane subtly encouraged it with his posture and expression. He knew the farmer needed to let this shit out before it festered. He knew that better than most.

"Worse, that completely ignores the fact that even if I clean it up, if I could manage the repairs, if-if-IF, there's no way I'll get custody unless I'm making more money than I ever could possibly make from a run down farm in the middle of nowhere!"

He'd ended much louder than he'd intended, and realized that everyone was looking at him. 

Oh.

"Oh no," he breathed, nearly falling over the barstool as he fled the saloon.

The door swung shut behind him, and everyone looked from it, to Shane.

"What? What exactly did you expect me to do?" he asked them, and then tried to ignore it as literally everyone tried to speak at once. Nope. "I'm out. Night, Em. Uh-" he hesitated, and then added in a slightly quieter voice. "His next beer's on me. Dude needs to relax." That, and Shane did feel rough for making him break down in front of everyone. The outburst was nothing like what he'd expected. 

"He needs a lot more than that," Emily whispered, and Shane gave her a look. She was going to meddle. He hated when she meddled with his problems, but if she was going to interfere with the new farmer's life that wasn't his business. Reese was a big boy, he could tell her to fuck off if he wanted to. He didn't need Shane to do it for him. 

Anyway, he agreed. That farmer needed a hell of a lot more than a beer, but didn't everyone? The problem was, beer was accessible, and real help was in short supply. 

**Author's Note:**

> Ignoring the set prices for the game- he can afford two beers the first night, for example. A few things aren't exactly going to go along with canon, but they're party of the mystery, so... we'll get to that eventually. No spoilers.


End file.
